Here We Are In Heaven
by bschi003
Summary: The boys are caught off guard, and not pleased, when Castiel drops by their hotel room in the wee hours of the morning, with a surprise. Contains a prophacy, a pair of large dogs in the Impalas backseat, and a girl whose future is apparently very intimately entwined with Dean's... Rating because... well, why not? Dean/OFC
1. Prologue

A/N- I seriously have no idea where this come out of... except maybe a three-am-fifth-monster-of-the-day induced fog... anyways... let me know what you think...

* * *

Prologue-

It was very late at night in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, or extremely early depending on one's point of view. However, the three men huddled around the table in the messy kitchen were no strangers to 3:52 am. For them, it could have easily been ten minutes to four in the afternoon- not a yawn, a eye rub or even a sigh were exchanged between them. All three were alert and focused on their discussion and the conversation itself was tense and aggravated, though low in volume, as if all were afraid the salvage yard itself had ears.

"Are you sure it's her?" The owner of the property asked. He took off his worn baseball cap and rubbed his balding head worriedly. "We can't have a repeat of last time… I dunno if that boy can take another loss like that."

"We're positive." The man to his left replied with absolute confidence as he picked up one of the several photographs on the table. It was recent, taken less then a week before, clearly taken from a distance, and with the subject unaware of the camera. She was pretty, with long dirty blond locks and piercing blue eyes. She was featured in all the pictures, of which there were maybe 10 or so, which were all clearly from the same afternoon. She was in some sort of field with two other young women and several young children. Some were of just her, close up to her face. A few were of her barefoot and playfully chasing a little boy with a mop of messy black hair. In the picture he held, she was sitting in the grass comforting a small girl with auburn curls. He folded the picture and slipped it into the inner pocket of his trench coat. "I made sure it was her, myself."

"And you didn't last time? Idjit…" The first man rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Who is she?" The final man questioned with a slight British accent as he picked up a couple of photos and looked over them curiously.

The second man looked at him from across the table. "Who she is, is irrelevant." His blue eyes stared at his unlikely comrade blankly. "Who she becomes, is what is important."

The third man raised a manicured eyebrow. "Yes, but you and I both know that _he_ won't see it that way."

"Her name is Molly." The first man supplied. "Molly Vanicore. She's 24, a daycare teacher at a school on the outskirts of Portland. She is an only child, was orphaned at the age of four when her parents died in a car accident in Manhattan. She was raised by her great aunt."

"And the aunt?"

"Dead, almost five years… Brain tumor. She lives by herself on her aunts old farm with her two dogs."

The third mans eyebrows knitted together as he frowned. "Poor Girl."

The man in the trench coat looked up in confusion. "She is destined to live a long life with much love and happiness. She and her future family will accomplish great things. Why is that something to feel sorry for?"

The third man pulled a face and opened his mouth to argue, but the first man cut him off. "Before my brain explodes while watching the _demon _give the _angel _lessons on humanity, lets remember that the oh so wonderful future planned out for this little girl isn't gonna happen unless we find some way to protect her."

Crowley pursed his lips in annoyance at being interrupted but allowed the redirection and turned to face the aging hunter. "Well, why exactly does she need protection? Why can't she just live her life until it comes to fruition? No one else knows about the prophecy… right?"

"That's what we thought," Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck again. "But Cas has been keeping an eye on all the girls on the list of possibilities until we could narrow it down further. But then two weeks ago, the first girl on the list, Alexandra Peters, died. Then the second, and the third. As of yesterday morning the top five girls on that list were dead. All suicides, with no history of depression or mental illness of any kind."

"Clearly someone is cheating off our test…" Crowley looked over to the angel. "What number is Miss Molly, here?"

Solemn blue eyes met dark brown. "Seven."

The demons eyebrows shot to his hairline in surprise. "Why was she ranked so low on the list?"

"Mostly because of her being so damn normal." Bobby said with a shake of his head. "They're just so unlikely to cross paths. All the girls on the list had the same major prophesized characteristics. They all have a birthmark on their hipbone, they're all orphans with no family and they all have pure souls. But the ones higher ranked had at least more of a chance of running into them. Alexandra was a nurse in hospital near where they're working at the moment, Sophia was a waitress in a diner that claimed to have the worlds best pie, Caitlyn was a homicide detective in Baltimore and Isabelle was a bartender in a biker bar off the interstate. But Molly lives in what must be the quietest town on the planet, she doesn't go to bars, she doesn't travel, hell; she doesn't even like rock music. She likes books and spending time with her dogs. She rides horses and volunteers at the local soup kitchen. She goes camping, damnit! I mean, if we were talking about Sam, I'd say sure, but Dean? Hell no… She's so far off their track and although she's very pretty, the only thing that could make her further from his type is if she had a dick."

"Well, you know what they say about opposites…" Crowly said with a shrug. "Well, none of mine are causing the killings so it must be from something else. Any ideas?"

Bobby shook his head sadly. "We cant even figure out who else knows about the prophecy, let alone who would want to prevent it. But how are we supposed to protect her against every evil thing that could possibly want to fuck with us?"

"We don't," Castiel said. "They will."

"You want to put her into their protection? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Crowley said looking back to the array of photographs. "They're bound to get suspicious if you just throw her to them saying she needs protection but won't give them any details."

Cas looked up in confusion. "Why wouldn't I give them details?"

"Because it could mess with the prophecy?! Because we all know how that idjit reacts when he feels like he's being forced into something… He's likely to kill her himself!" Bobby was pacing now.

"He would not kill her." Castiel said with certainty. "He will protect her because she is an innocent young woman, and that is what his instincts will tell him to do. It will not "mess" with the prophecy because that prophecy tells of a fixed point. It does not say how or even exactly when they will fulfill it, but they will… in their own way, and their own time."

And in the blink of an eye, the Angel had disappeared, leaving the remaining two men staring into the empty space where their co-conspirator once stood.

"I hate it when he does that."

* * *

A/N- This is just the prologue... Comment if you want more =]


	2. Chapter 1- Let Love In

A/N: I own nothing… Well, I own some things… A car, a bunny rabbit, a phone, a laptop… but nothing relevant to this story…

Many thanks to Dark-Supernatural-Angel who beta-ed the first 3/4 of it =]

Also- I've been receiving alot of messages about my other two stories, and yes my intent is to continue them... I working on it people but if there comes a time when I'm ready to let go of them, I will let y'all know if they're up for adoption... xoxox

* * *

"You're the only one I ever believed in  
The answer that could never be found  
The moment you decided to let love in  
Now I'm banging on the door of an angel  
The end of fear is where we begin  
The moment we decided to let love in…"

-Let Love In; The Goo Goo Dolls

Molly Bella Vanicore was sitting peacefully on her front porch, wrapped in an old afghan, watching the storm clouds roll across the mountains. Lightning flashed through the clouds as she took a sip of her tea. It was late for her, almost two am, and though it was a Friday night, Molly usually passed out around 10. This last week, however, the young woman found sleep eluding her. Something was not right in Molly's world.

It all started last Friday, when Molly came home to find her dogs on the front porch. While this was not an unusual sight as she often let her dogs roam the property during the day, she distinctly remembered leaving them in the kitchen that morning. She shook it off as being absentminded and tired from the busy week and promptly forgot about it. Then, on Tuesday, Molly let her two boys out early on her way to work in the morning. Usually, upon her return, they would run happily to her car as it pulled in the driveway, but this afternoon, there was no sign of them. She whistled a few times on her way up the porch steps but there was no response. She opened her front door and just as she was starting to get concerned, she heard the familiar _pitter-pat _of paws on the floor and looked up to find them coming out of her living room.

That's when she started noticing their odd behavior. Her two normally happy, carefree Newfoundland's seemed anxious and jumpy, whining when she left her house and sticking to her like glue when she was home. They jumped at every small noise and even growled when they heard someone approach the door, something they had never done before.

At first, Molly just thought it was messing with her head, making her paranoid. She started feeling like someone was watching her at odd times, on her way to the coffee shop, taking out books from the local library, while playing in the yard with her students. She tried shaking it off, but she couldn't help feeling uneasy and on Wednesday she started locking her door (with the dogs inside) while she was at work. She vaguely remembered the security precautions her parents had in the Manhattan apartment they had lived in when she was a small child. They had a doorman, an alarm system, and a deadbolt. They even locked the door while they were home. But she had never once in her entire life locked the door to the farmhouse. Her aunt had said it was ridiculous; nothing interesting ever happened in the small Oregon town of Hendersonville. So Molly told herself she was being silly and swore not to think about it.

And not think about it she did. For two days, the young girl did everything in her power to forget the nagging feeling in the back of her mind and forced herself to focus on acting normal (though she still locked the door when she left the house). She convinced herself that she was being crazy; that she had been working too hard for too long and that this was her brain's way of telling her she needed a vacation. That morning, she had gone to her boss and told her she was cashing in her vacation days and that she was taking the next week off. Sue, an aging maternal lady, was more than happy to oblige as she had been hounding her young employee to take a break for almost a year. That week, plus the two weeks the school was closed after the end of summer session, gave Molly a three-week vacation.

For the rest of the day, Molly mentally planned out her camping trip. That night she was packing her gear and getting her permit and in the morning, she was throwing the dogs, her canoe and her pack into her jeep and driving up to their favorite spot in the Canadian Rockies.

She had stopped at the supermarket and the sporting goods store on her way home for supplies and a few things she needed to replace after her last trip, and she even splurged on a new pack (her old one was quite worn) and she pulled up her long driveway with a huge smile on her face and excited butterflies in her stomach. She grabbed her bags, ran up the porch steps, pulled her keys from the pocket of her purse and froze.

For a few seconds, she just stood there, waiting for her brain to catch up to what her eyes were seeing.

Her door was open.

Not just unlocked (even though she was positive she had locked it that morning) but actually _ajar_.

For a moment it was like she couldn't comprehend what that meant. Then it hit her… Someone had gone inside her house.

Despite the growing feeling of trepidation in her gut, she pushed open the door with her foot.

_'What are you doing?!' _She thought to herself. _'Hasn't Law and Order taught you anything?! The cracked-up-whackadoodle-junkie with the 9 millimeter could still be inside waiting to shoot you in the head!' _

But she heard Abbot and Tellie barking from somewhere inside and she just couldn't leave them.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting when she finally poked her head into the hall but it definitely wasn't what she saw.

Nothing.

Everything, as far as she could see from her position in the doorway, was just how she left it.

And, upon further investigation, the rest of her home was in the same condition. She crept slowly through the house. The living room was fine, the den was untouched, even her empty coffee mug was still on the kitchen table exactly where she left it that morning. The basement and the attic were undisturbed if the thick layer of dust on everything was anything to go by. The three spare bedrooms were spotless. On the other hand, both her bedroom and the library were in chaos, however, that was all her doing, not an intruder. Even the upstairs bathroom, where she finally found the dogs, was exactly the same.

She still called the sheriff's office.

The deputy that came was Andrew Miller; a sweet guy Molly had been friends with since high school. He was just as confused as she was. Whoever had been in her house was long gone and it appeared that he hadn't touched a thing. He even asked her (multiple times, to Molly's annoyance) if she was sure _she_ hadn't left the door open that morning.

It left both the police and her at a loss… by all appearances someone had picked the lock on her door (Molly had smiled triumphantly when they found the small scratches around the keyhole) and broke in her house solely to shut her dogs into the upstairs bathroom.

Another flash of lighting over the mountains and the quiet rumble of thunder in the distance made Abbot whine nervously and look up at her from his spot next to his sleeping identical brother on the floor of the wraparound porch.

"You're alright, big boy." She whispered to him soothingly. "We'll go inside soon."

She played with the tips of her long blonde hair and took another sip of her (mostly cold) tea. She should have accepted Andrew's offer to stay on her couch that night. But Molly Vanicore was stubborn and told him no, to go home and sleep in his own bed. Though he did say he'd come by to check on her in the morning and not so subtly suggested she sleep with a baseball bat in her bed.

Molly laughed it off at the time but she didn't realize how alone and uncomfortable she would feel once the sun went down. For the first time as far back as she could remember, she felt unsafe in the small town she called home.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly as another crash of thunder echoed off the mountains. This time both sets of brown eyes looked at her with worry. She sighed.

"Okay boys, you win." She stood up with her mug in her hand and wrapped the blanket tighter around her thin pajamas. "Let's go in." She said, motioning towards the door with her mug.

The two large black dogs trampled through the door jam and up the stairs. They knew her nightly routine, and she knew they would be lying on her bed waiting for her once she got upstairs.

Molly locked the front door behind her. The lights downstairs were off and the hall was nearly black but she made her way through to the dark kitchen by memory. As she turned around the counter towards the sink, a flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen.

It was only for a second… Probably less, but in that moment Molly could clearly see a figure standing by the breakfast nook.

The girl couldn't scream, couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and for what seemed like a very long time the only sound in the room was the thunder and the steady tinkling of the rain that had just begun to fall, hitting the roof.

"Hello." The stranger said, softly. "Do not be afraid."

The suddenness of his voice broke the spell over Molly and she quickly gasped for air. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and her hands were shaking so hard the tea in the mug was now on the floor.

"Who are you?" She asked, not taking her eyes off the tall, dark haired man before her.

"My name is Castiel and I am an Angel of the Lord." He said calmly.

Molly heard the words, but was far too scared to register them. "Okay." She responded, the shake in her hands now also in her voice. "What do you want?"

Castiel looked at her with solemn eyes. "You are in danger, Molly." He said. "I am here to take you to someone who will protect you."

By now Molly's brain was starting to kick back into gear. "An angel of the lord?" She repeated slowly.

"Yes."

"You're an angel of the lord and you're here to protect me."

"Yes."

Molly stared at him.

The stranger (that Molly was now convinced was completely whackadoodle) stared back. "You don't believe me."

An old quote Molly once heard resounded in her head. Something about playing along with the crazy people if you want to live. Yet, she found her mouth saying "No."

"I can prove it to you." The stranger took a step towards her.

Molly instinctively took a step back.

"Do not be afraid." The stranger repeated, in quite the same tone of voice Molly used when talking to a frightened child. "I will not hurt you."

Molly found she couldn't move as the stranger approached her. Her legs simply wouldn't work, though if it was from fear or some other outside source, Molly just couldn't be certain.

The stranger approached her slowly, cautiously, much like one approaching a hurt animal in the wild. Like at any moment she was going to lash out and bite him or something.

He turned slowly around the island and the solid countertop separating them was gone. He was five feet away… then two… before Molly knew it, the strange, insane, man in the tan trench coat was standing right in front of her. His hand reached out and she flinched away. His movements stilled for a moment and he looked at her intensely, and then continued. Her heart was racing so fast she thought she would faint. She was hyperventilating.

His hand got closer and closer. Molly squeezed her eyes shut just as she felt his hand come to rest gently on her shoulder.

She held her breath.

For a few seconds she felt… nothing.

She released the breath she was holding and popped one eye open. He was still staring at her, his blue eyes piercing, as if he was looking directly into her soul.

She raised her eyebrow. "Well?" She asked, slightly annoyed at the anti-climatic nothingness.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards in an amused half-smirk.

"Listen, buddy, if you-" Molly cut off… her body felt tingly.

Then out of nowhere- BAM!

* * *

_Knock Knock_

Dean Winchester rolled over on the lumpy motel mattress. He had been having such a nice dream, involving a beach somewhere in the Caribbean, a deck of cards, a hockey jersey and that cute redhead from the bar with the really low cut dress.

'_Maybe they'll just go away…_' He thought to himself. He kept his eyes closed and after a moment, he was lying on the beach again.

The sun was warm and the towel he was lying on was soft. He glanced over to the gorgeous girl across from him.

"Got any threes?" He asked with a wink.

She smiled and opened her mouth but before she could respond, the beach faded away for the second time and he was on the lumpy mattress once more.

_Knock-Knock Knock Knock-Knock_

He heard his younger brother groan and shift on his bed across the room and Dean opened his eyes. "What time is it?" The hunter asked groggily.

He saw the light from his brother's phone turn on as he checked the time. "Ten past four." Sam responded wearily.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dean asked in annoyance as he rubbed his eyes. The brothers had gone to bed less than an hour before after being awake for almost 72 hours straight. The simple salt and burn they had expected upon arriving in the Illinois town of Ellisville had turned into something much more complicated when their ghost's cat apparently developed a thing for Dean… the cat that the ghost had apparently attached itself to. It took the boys awhile to figure out the ghost was actually stalking the cat, which in turn, was stalking them, and not just stalking them for no apparent reason. It had not been a fun few days.

Sam was still sneezing and the Impala, Dean's precious Baby, still smelled faintly like a litter box.

_Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock-Kn ock-Knock-Knock_

Someone was persistent.

Dean turned on the light as he rolled out of bed. "We're comin'!" He called out in the general direction of the door.

"Wait, Dean!" Sam stopped his brother as he stood up and started towards the annoying noise. "It's four am! You can't just open the door! What if it's a demon or something?"

Dean's green eyes stared at his brother blankly. "When have you ever known a demon, a ghost, or any big bad for that matter, to knock?"

Sam's brown eyes blinked back at him owlishly and Dean sighed. "Who is it?" He asked the doorway.

The response was muffled but easily understandable. "It is I, Castiel."

Of course it is, who else would show up at four in the morning without a courtesy phone call first?

Dean unlocked the door and it swung open to reveal the oblivious blue-eyed angel. "Do you realize what time it is?! This had better be good, Cas, because I swear, If you're just popping in to say hi at four in the morning, I'm gonna- Who are you?" Dean stopped mid-threat-rant when he saw the small girl standing behind his friend, looking at him with wide blue eyes.

Well, she was hardly a girl, Dean placed her at maybe 25, but she was a tiny thing; 5 foot 2 and 105 lbs would be generous. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a messy braid and she was wearing flannel pajama pants, a tank top, and no shoes. Clearly, they weren't the only ones Castiel barged in on late at night.

Dean felt Sam come up behind him and tried not to roll his eyes when his younger brother smiled at the newcomer warmly. "Hi there!" He said. "I'm Sam, and this is my brother, Dean."

The girl glanced back and forth between the two brothers for a second before a determined expression crossed her face. She stuck out her hand. "Hi! I'm Molly." She said with confidence. "Do you mind if we come in? It's cold."

* * *

Dean stared at the young women as she sat casually at the end of his brother's now vacant bed. To the average person, she appeared calm and confidant, as if she knew the brothers well and was right at home in their dingy motel room. Dean, however, was hardly average. Years of hunting, and being hunted, had made him a trained observer. He saw right through her mask. Molly's bright eyes were just a tad too wide, the baby blues roaming the roam just a bit too quickly. Her breathing was slightly too fast and there were little, barely noticeable, stress lines between her eyebrows. Something had frightened this girl. Badly.

Castiel moved silently to stand beside the pretty blonde, subconsciously obtaining a protective stance. Dean's eyes met Sam's and he knew his brother was thinking the same thing. Something big was going down.

Sam sat down gently in the only chair in the cheap room, across from their visitors. He placed his elbows on his knees and leaned towards them, his brown eyes kind and disarming, trying to put the girl at ease.

Dean, however, remained standing stiffly by the door, too tired and too aggravated to care. "What's going on, Cas?" He growled out, with only a little more malice then he intended.

His brother's attention turned to the angel, expectantly, but Dean's green eyes remained on the girl. He frowned as her gaze went to her hands and she bit her lip. Clearly, she was already aware why she was here, and whatever it was made her nervous.

Folding his arms, he glared at Castiel.

"Molly's in danger." His friend said, calmly. "She needs your protection."

Dean's annoyance skyrocketed, but before he could open his mouth to so-very-nicely explain to Cas that they were not a babysitting service, Sam opened his. "What's after her?" He asked, voice laced with concern.

"We don't know. It hasn't come after her yet."

"Well, then… How do you know she's in danger?" Dean raised his eyebrows, glare intensifying. If Castiel woke him for no reason, he was going to kill him.

"Molly was on the list of possibilities as the subject of a prophecy. We have concluded that Molly is, in fact, who the prophecy refers to, but not before the other girls on the list were killed." Castiel said in his emotionless, no-nonsense way.

Ok, now Dean was intrigued. He glanced down to the girl and regarded her coolly. Her eyes were still focused on her hands.

"What's the prophecy about?" He heard Sam ask.

Dean looked back up once more to find Castiel's cool blue eyes gaze at him intently. "It's about how Molly, her future husband and their children will save humanity from eradication." He paused and cocked his head slightly to the left, as if considering some unknown thought, his eyes never leaving Dean face. "It is imperative that this comes to pass. Molly must be protected."

Dean did not like the way Cas was staring at him.

While their relationship has had its ups and downs, Dean considered Castiel his best friend. The angel was one of only a handful of people that Dean trusted implicitly. Over the years, he had learned to read the micro-expressions that the stoic angel made, and Dean could now interpret Castiel's thoughts almost as well as he could Sam's or Bobby's.

Castiel's expression to an uneducated observer would seem, impassive… even bored, perhaps. But Dean knew different. Castiel's face was patient but expectant. Castiel knew something. Something he was patiently waiting for Dean to figure out. There were also hints of wariness. Like he was waiting for the hunter to connect the dots to see the bigger picture; a bigger picture he knew Dean wouldn't like.

_Uh oh._

Clearly, Sam was fluent in Castiel-ese as well.

"What did the prophecy say, Cas?" The younger brother asked with resignation. Sam had figured out what the missing piece was, and was looking for confirmation. Damn his genius IQ.

Dean sensed more then heard Molly's shaky breath. Once again, Dean found himself as the only one not in the loop.

His brow furrowed in annoyance but he focused on Cas, his sleep-deprived mind desperately trying to piece it all together.

Castiel took a deep breath and recited.

"The day the moon meets the sun,  
They will rise from the dust  
and the world will know devastation like never before.  
But on the night when the earth hides the moon,  
the Righteous Man and the Pure One Marked By God,  
along with their children,  
will lead the rest out of ruin  
and into the light."

Dean felt something wriggling around in his sub-conscious… a thought, though not fully formed, was trying to push its way to the front of his mind.

He ignored it.

"Well, damn it Cas! What are you waking us up for?" He finally exploded. Dean was tired, emotionally as well as physically. He was worn out and confused and wasn't in the mood for the patented Castiel-Mind-Fuck-Games. "I understand she needs protection but we're not a babysitting service!"

"Dean-!" Sam tried to interrupt, his eyes wide and staring at the small girl in shock and concern.

"No, Sammy! I'm sorry, Cas, but this is not our problem. Why don't you take her to the guy in the prophecy… the righteous dude or whatever? Her safety is his responsibility, not ours! Drag his ass out of bed at 4 am."

Everyone in the room froze. Sam and Cas looked at him sadly.

Suddenly, Dean's brain kicked into overdrive. His thoughts started racing as that wiggling little fucker he had been ignoring finally pushed its way to his conscious thoughts.

His green eyes flew to the down-turned head of the little girl- no, young woman, sitting on the edge of his bed.

_Oh no…_

'The Righteous Man and the Pure One Marked By God…'

'Her future husband…'

'Their children…'

_HELL NO!_

Slowly, Molly lifted her head and nervous deep blue eyes met shocked green and in that moment Dean just knew.

He didn't even need to hear Sam's compassionate whisper of "Dean, I think he just did…"

His thoughts were flying a mile a minute, but everything else was moving in slow motion. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers.

This girl- _woman_- was one day going to be his wife, the love of his life, the mother of his children (Yes, children... not child… children… as in plural… _shit!_), and all he knew about her was her name.

She smiled sadly at him. "Hi…" She whispered.

_Fuck!_

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to review!_  
_


End file.
